hat had happened and was
happening. The reports they had occasionally from the elder Fairburn
were in the highest degree cheering. The two ladies were well; the
pits were prospering marvellously.

The feeling at home, rumour said, was setting strongly in favour of
ending the war and coming to terms with France. This discontent at
home was supplemented by murmurings among the troops quartered at
Antwerp, and still more by the uneasiness of the Dutch, who were
disposed to make a separate treaty with France and drop out of the
conflict. Marlborough felt that he must achieve some brilliant success
before that campaign was ended.

"There is going to be hot work for us, that is plain," the two
lieutenants said to each other, "and, if we have luck, we shall get
the promotion we have been waiting so long for."

Bruges and Ghent had gone back to the French allegiance, and Louis
determined to make an attempt to secure Oudenarde also, an important
fortress lying between the French borders and Brabant. The French army
boasted two generals, the royal Duke of Burgundy, an incapable leader,
and the Duke of Vendome, a most capable one. A more unfortunate
partnership could not well be imagined; Burgundy and Vendome were in
everything the opposite of each other, and the quarrels between them
were as numerous as they were bitter, so that the army of Louis XIV
was handicapped at the very outset.

It was three in the afternoon of July 11. The Allies were fagged out
with the marchings and the heat of the day when they came in sight of
the enemy's forces near Oudenarde.

"Precious glad of a rest!" Matthew Blackett remarked when the signal
to halt came. To his surprise and dismay the order to form immediately
followed.

"Just like the Duke," commented his friend Fairburn.

Quickly the cavalry were got together for a charge.

"The old fellow doesn't intend the Frenchmen to slip away without
fighting," the men remarked to one another.

Suddenly, almost before the whole body of horse was ready, Marlborough
directed a charge to be made. For the first time our lieutenants found
themselves not in the Duke's own division. The commander of the right
wing, a very strong force, was Prince Eugene, who, having now nothing
to do in Italy, had hurried northwards to join his friend. In such hot
haste had the Prince travelled, indeed, that he had out-stripped his
own army. Here was Prince Eugene, but not Prince Eugene's men. His
wing at Oudenarde